


Bullet Wound (Forever and Always)

by ironicconcoctions



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Declarations Of Love, Depression, Guns, M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:20:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironicconcoctions/pseuds/ironicconcoctions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard can feel the cold press of the gun barrel on the roof of his mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bullet Wound (Forever and Always)

**Author's Note:**

> This is triggering.

Gerard felt the cold press of the gun on the roof of his mouth. Silver metal slick with spit from his tongue flicking around the barrel head, inspecting the foreign metal. He had been contemplating this scenario for weeks, sudden spouts of depression smacking him hard across the face - and he had suddenly wondered, this morning, would he honestly care if anyone missed him?

He thought not.

The bed creaked under his weight and all he could think about was whether or not Frank could cope without him now, and he thought that, yes he most likely could handle himself without the constant crutch of his best friend and partner by his side at every possible time. Frank knew Gerard had always suffered from serious, suicidal streams of depression, and often tried his best to cheer him up. Movies and making out on the couch wasn’t helping his brain flow anymore than it used to, and Gerard was done. The wood of the handle felt warm in his grip, trigger finger bent on the lock plate, preparing to cock back the hammer. Gerard was nervous, and he didn’t expect to be. Hadn’t he been waiting for the perfect opportunity to do this since high school?

He was only twenty-three, and that was enough years to know he wanted to die, was prepared to, and that it would happen. 

Frank would be home in an hour or two, he needed to get the job done before he showed up so he didn’t have to face doing it with the love of his life in the next room, banging on the locked door. 

He finally slid his hand back further on the gun, finder sliding idly up the cool silver until it held gently onto the head of the hammer, pulling back until he heard an audible soft ‘click’. He was really going to do this. He sat and took harsh breaths around the barrel, his eyes raking over his and Frank’s bedroom one last time, the gray feather down plush under his jean clad thighs. The dark green walls soaked in the light from the window, making a calming effect on the room. Fresh pansies lay in a vase on Frank’s nightstand, the scent wisping through Gerard’s nose every now and then, wintergreen flogging his senses.

He wondered what color the comforter would turn when it had splashed of blood, and bits of brain scattered on it’s soft surface. Maroon maybe? Or more of a dark, dark brown from the hours his body sat, draining itself of life before somebody broke down the bedroom door, and found his laying haphazardly across it’s expansive surface. He closed his eyes.

It was time. Gerard finally and the pad of his finger along the trigger, and pulled. The light slam, and loud smack of the bullet rang through the room. 

He felt the same. Is this what death felt like? His mouth tasted like gun powder.

Was this heaven? It smelled like pansies and Ed Hardy Cologne. 

He flexed his jaw, and...nothing. He slowly opened his eyes and - he was still in his bedroom, window open slightly, Frank on New Year’s staring back at him, framed in a wooden paneling. He was alive. He was alive?! 

“Whahd dtha fugg?” he said angrily, jumping up. “What the fuck!” 

Gerard pulled the gun out of his mouth, inspecting the barrel, anger pulsing through his veins like quick hot fire. It seeped from his pores, dripping out of his very heart. When he had looked at the hollow inside, the bullet was stuck at the very tip, lodged between charred pieces of once oil slick fabric. The gun had misfired.

With his only bullet.

“I can’t believe this!” Gerard screamed, throwing the gun harshly at the bathroom door, bouncing back onto the wood floor. “Unbelievable.” 

Gerard sat on the ground, and curled into a tight ball, crying. He couldn’t believe this could happen to him. He couldn’t believe that something that was going to fix everything messed up everything - again. He just, he just...wanted a solution. Solidity. Where was his damn solidity? The shaking and pounding of his deep dark desires encasing his every thought, smudging everyday tasks, and all he wanted was a sharp, sleek, time of day that all he could process through his mind was the single emotion of love. Hot, purely romantic love. And all he could smell, taste, fucking feel through every nerve was swallowing night that had created a film of absolute distrust and agony over his very being. The profuse taste of luck, void. His vivacity only few drops from vacuity. 

He had so much love that nobody was taking.

Gerard felt the tendril of a blood curdling scream at the edge of his throat when the sound of a lock turned, the front door was being unlocked. 

Frank was home.

Gerard shot up, looking furiously for the gun, before finding it on the floor by the bathroom, and shoving it under his dresser. He could hear the shuffle of grocery bags on the counter, the fridge being opened. He unlocked the bedroom door furiously, fumbling with the lock for a few moments, before quickly sprinting down the stairs and seeing Frank on his tiptoes trying to shove a box of Chex into the top cabinet. Gerard just stands there, watching him struggle before he just lets the cereal fall to the ground with a huff. FRank doesn't notice him until he turns around, and makes a girl noise, startled.

“Oh, my god!” he sighs, feigning a wounded heart. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” is all Gerard replied with. Frank looks worried.

He walks closer to Gerard and wipes a thumb over his jawbone, making him shiver. Frank cracks a small smile, and leans in, says “Guess what?”

“What?” Gerard says, hands shaking from the physical contact. He feels like Frank can smell the anger seeping from his skin.

“I love you.”

And all Gerard knows how to do is fumble with his hands and then press them against Frank’s slim hips, before smashing his own mouth against Frank’s smaller pink one. He smiles wildly against Gerard’s lips, sliding his palms against his sharp cheekbones. 

~

Later that night, when they are both tucked into the still gray comforter of their queen size bed, Frank leans over his boyfriends sleeping form, stroking his naked arm idly. Gerard leans into the touch, despite being sound asleep. Frank frowns, sighing quietly. He leans down against Gerard’s ear and whispers -

“I will always love you. I will always love you no matter how messed up you are, whether or not you can cope with everyday to day tasks,” he starts, voice barely above the sound of Gerard’s breathing. “I will love you when you are better. When you are sick. Old, or dying,” he can feel Gerard start to stir in his sleep, so he wraps it up. “Even if the world sweeps you into another direction, into another person’s arms, I will love you because you’re you.” He leans down and kisses Gerard’s cheek before turning over and burrowing himself under the covers.

What Frank doesn't see is the small smile on Gerard’s pale face.

“I will always love you, too.”


End file.
